


House of Finch

by pidgeonpostal



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Clover Ebi, False Identity, M/M, Prostate Massage, Sex Work, Top Qrow Branwen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidgeonpostal/pseuds/pidgeonpostal
Summary: Qrow is in Atlas on a mission and decides to work in a brothel while he's there, because he's bored, horny, and Ozpin didn't tell him he couldn't. A certain cute military man comes in with a specific request.(Self-indulgent porn, in a world where sex work is just chill, and Qrow Branwen is simultaneously a legendary huntsman and therefore famous, and also able to go about his shenanigans uninterrupted because no one remembers what he looks like)
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 19
Kudos: 64





	House of Finch

Ozpin got to tell Qrow where to go spying, but _Qrow_ got to decide how, so he found a reputable brothel in Mantle’s red light district, and registered as a sex worker under a fake name.

The thing was, he was supposedly a legendary huntsman. People knew his name. But people didn’t seem to ever know what he _looked_ like. Qrow liked the anonymity it gave him. Qrow also liked sex. He liked sex a _lot._ And he had it on good authority that he was _good_ at it, so why not have fun while making some money and getting acquainted? You never knew what you’d hear in hushed tones if you were listening in unexpected places.

So here he was, sprawled in a low-lit lounge on a loveseat, long legs propped up against the other armrest because he knew what his best assets were, a short jacket bunching up under his back. It was a slow day and he was itching for a good client.

The front door opened and shut, and Qrow sat up a bit straighter to get a good look. He didn’t really need to. She was tall and broad and took up most of the doorframe between him and the front desk, and his heart rate jumped. She smiled warmly and walked with a military gait, enthusiasm coming off her in waves. Qrow watched the curve of her bicep with interest. Strong. Eager. He liked that, and craned his neck to watch her a bit more as she left his field of vision.

“Oh come on, Clover, you said you wanted to come!” Her hand reached across the doorframe again, and with a surprised yelp a man was dragged into view.

Oh. Now _that_ was interesting. He wasn’t quite as tall, but similarly broad and similarly military. Better still, his jeans were tight enough to be painted on and despite it being literally freezing in Atlas all the time, his collared shirt was completely sleeveless. Qrow could tell he was just as muscular as his companion, but there was a _hesitance_ to him, not reluctant but _unsure,_ as if he wasn’t in a space he was used to. Classic first-timer posture.

The man—Clover—smiled and held his hands up in mock surrender. “I did, I did, just—”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet at the last minute.”

Strong, eager, and _shy._ Qrow was already getting hard at the thought. But just as quickly as he came, Clover was whisked out of view. The rest of their conversation with the front desk was muted by the wall between them.

Qrow readjusted himself on the couch, checked that his legs were at their best angle, his hair in carefully styled disorder. It would be fine if Clover picked someone else for the evening, he tried to remind himself. People had different tastes, and that was fine.

But Qrow had a thing for large, shy men, and a competitive streak wide enough to land a carrier on, so when he heard footsteps approach the lounge, he inspected his nails for about half a second before looking up at the newcomers.

Clover was in the doorway, having abruptly come to a stop, facing Qrow, mouth half open. Qrow’s lips curled into a slow smile. Clover’s wingwoman looked at him over Clover’s shoulder and winked. Qrow winked back.

To his credit, Clover recovered, and stiffly walked over to sit on an ottoman near Qrow. “Hello, I’m Clover,” he said, and as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands, stuck one out for a handshake, of all things.

Qrow arched an eyebrow. “Finch,” he said simply, and took Clover’s hand, running his fingers gently against Clover’s palm as he withdrew. He knew how hard this conversation was for first-timers, and he really, really wanted Clover, so he helped them along. “Looking for someone for the evening?”

“Yes,” Clover said brightly, and then seemed to lose a bit of his confidence. “But, for something specific.”

A kink? Qrow tried to still appear calm, even lazy. If he didn’t make it a big deal, Clover might open up a bit. “I’m pretty flexible,” Qrow said, propping one foot up on the couch cushions because he just couldn’t resist. As expected, Clover’s eyes darted over to the movement. “What’s your flavor? Ropes? Pain? Bit of role play?”

“What? Oh, no, nothing fancy, just, uh…” Clover ran his fingers through his hair. “When I normally go out to pick up, people assume I, uh, top.”

Oh, _fuck yes._

“It’s not that I don’t, just, not all the time. And,” Clover sighed. “It’s been a while, and I don’t want to have to keep trying to find someone who will tonight. So I figured, well, Elm figured it might be better to ask here.”

Qrow looked up to give Elm a look from across the room that he hoped conveyed his gratitude. She gave him a thumbs up. Qrow swung his legs down until he was seated normally, and reached out towards Clover, giving him enough time to shift away. When he didn’t, Qrow put his hand down on Clover’s thigh and squeezed. “I think I can do that for you, Cloves,” Qrow purred, low in the back of his throat. “You wanna start now?”

Clover swallowed. “Yes. You have a room?”

Qrow led him around the front desk, grabbing the key for his favorite room and pulling up a tablet. “You gonna have your friend wait out here?” he asked.

Clover shook his head emphatically. “She knows not to wait up. I’m hoping to be a while.”

Qrow was going to have _so much fun._

He booked the room indefinitely, it was a slow night and he could refund the difference when Clover wanted to leave. “Right this way.”

The rooms were simply furnished but carefully designed to block sound escaping, for the louder clients. Qrow hoped it would be an issue. He held the door for Clover and closed it behind them. “So, ground rules first. No permanent marks on me, if either of us calls ‘stop,’ we stop, no questions asked, I bring you back to the front, you work out payment with someone else. Nothing leaves this room, if we see each other out in the world, we don’t know each other. Besides all that, everything’s fair game. Now, what about you? What turns you on, and what’s a non-starter?”

“I’m not a fan of dirty talk, being called a slut, things like that,” Clover started. He was fiddling with something in his pocket. “But I like talking, I like hearing what partners are thinking.”

A praise kink in a military man. What a surprise. But Clover looked like he was going to say something else, so Qrow just nodded and waited.

“Marks are fine anywhere that my shirt covers. And,” Clover took a deep breath before continuing. “And I really, _really_ like being fingered. I like coming from it. And then I like getting fucked and coming again.”

This night was getting better and better. “Specific,” Qrow croaked. “That’s good.”

“Is that alright with you? If it’s not what you’re interested in, I can ask—”

Qrow walked directly into Clover’s space, so close Qrow could have kissed him. He was planning on it in just a minute. “Clover. This is not a line. I have wanted to fuck you since you came in the front door. Absolutely everything out of your mouth tonight has been _very_ interesting to me, and right now I would be more than happy to spend as much time as you can afford working you open, on this bed, and then fucking you until you _scream._ Is that alright with _you?”_

Clover’s next exhale ended in a shudder. He couldn’t seem to look away from Qrow’s lips. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Qrow grabbed Clover by the ass and kissed him, long and slow, pressing their hips together until Clover made a muffled sound against his lips and pressed harder into him. Qrow took his chance and pressed his tongue into Clover’s mouth, which just led to another beautiful noise and Qrow was going to take his sweet time cataloguing every noise Clover could make tonight.

When it had gone on long enough for him, Qrow pulled away from the kiss. For a brief moment, Clover tried to lean even further forward, chasing his lips. His eyes were still closed. When he opened them, they were unfocused and hazy with lust. Qrow felt another thrill go up his spine. Clover was so _responsive._ “Wanna get on the bed, Cloves?”

Clover turned to do just that, yanking his shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor before shrugging out of his pants with equal speed. Qrow marvelled at his back muscles for a moment before following him over.

Gods, what a picture. Clover arranged himself on the bed like a pinup, arms over his head in a lazy stretch. Qrow wanted to put his mouth all over that, and said so.

There was a quick tensing of Clover’s sides that pulled his shoulders down, and then he relaxed back into the sheets again. “Come taste, then.” And he winked.

A little shy, but all eager. Clover was going to be the end of him. Qrow grabbed a bottle of lube for later to have at hand, and then climbed over Clover’s legs to lay kisses up and down his torso, leaving his cock alone for the moment. Patience. He let his teeth drag across Clover’s chest, and when the response was a sharp intake of breath, on the next brush over the same place he bit down, sharp and quick.

Clover gasped and arched up into his touch, exhaling in a soft, shuddering breath.

Qrow smiled into his next kiss. “Good?”

 _“Great,”_ Clover sighed, like he was settling into a warm bath.

Qrow did a few more passes, marking up all that skin whenever he pleased, wringing more noise from Clover as he went. By the time he pushed himself up and back to kneel between Clover’s legs, Clover had turned to bury his head in the pillows.

Qrow didn’t need to try to make his voice rough when he spoke. “You sound good, Cloves. Don’t stop on my account.”

Clover huffed a little laugh. “Sort of a reflex, I suppose. Apartment has thin walls.”

“Well, unlike your apartment, we are a _professional_ establishment,” Qrow said as he poured lube into his hand, warming it gently between his fingers. “No one is overheard who doesn’t want to be. So for this next part, I’d like for you to be just as loud as _you_ want to be.”

“Ha, ha-aah!” Clover’s next laugh melted into a higher noise as Qrow gently pushed a finger into him. It wasn’t a shout, but it wasn’t the quiet breaths he had been taking before, either. Good.

With his other hand Qrow rubbed soothing circles into Clover’s hips, still not touching his cock resting hard against his stomach. Clover had specifically said he wanted to come from _this,_ and Qrow wanted to be sure he got _exactly_ what he wanted tonight. So he worked him gently with one finger, listening to the tone and timbre of Clover’s quiet sounds to tell him when to push further. “How are we feeling, Cloves?”

“Hhhhn, good. Real good, Finch.”

Qrow didn’t so much as twitch at the name. He was used to it by now. He did feel a little twinge of longing, of wanting to hear those lips shape his name, but it was fine. This wasn’t about him. Clover sounded like he was floating, and that was just where Qrow wanted him. He pulled out and poured more lube over his hand. “Good. You’re doing real good, Cloves. Two now. Relax.”

Clover hummed at the praise and then finally, _finally,_ as Qrow pressed two fingers back into him, Clover arched until the small of his back was off the bed and let out a fully vocalized moan. He sounded _divine._ Qrow took a few deep breaths and squirmed a little, careful not to move to where he could rub off on Clover’s leg. He might have been able to come just from getting Clover off, if he tried, but that hadn’t been what Clover had asked for. “That’s it, Cloves. Wanna hear how much you like it.”

“Hah, you…really like that nickname,” Clover said between breaths.

“Would you prefer I call you ‘Clover?’”

“‘Cloves’ is, hngh…‘Cloves’ is good.”

Qrow chuckled. “You are. You look incredible like this, Cloves. Can’t believe—” _Can’t believe you couldn’t find someone to do this for free. I would._ But that was never a good thing to say to a paying client. “—my luck tonight. Thought it would be a slow night here.”

Clover snorted, honest-to-gods _snorted,_ and it shouldn’t have been cute _or_ hot, but Clover managed to make it both. “Oh, you get some odd nights off in the military sometimes. But mine are usually _quite_ lucky.” And he looked down and _winked_ again, the brat.

Qrow wasn’t doing his job right, if Clover could still form coherent sentences. So instead of responding, he worked his fingers deeper into Clover, curling gently, not searching exactly—he _was_ a professional, he knew what worked—but pressing in, closer and closer to—

Clover didn’t actually shout when Qrow brushed his prostate, but his body told Qrow he had found what he wanted all the same. His arms flexed as he gripped tightly to the sheets, the planes of his stomach shuddering with tension. One of his legs came up to drape over Qrow’s, letting Qrow press even deeper. One quick breath in, and Clover let out a low moan of satisfaction. “That, that’s perfect, Finch, more of that…”

Qrow leaned down to kiss at Clover’s raised thigh. “Thought you might like that.”

Clover didn’t say much else coherent for a few minutes. Qrow kept massaging that spot, leaving light touches on Clover’s inner thigh with his other hand, watching Clover’s face for signs of discomfort. But Clover seemed to be doing just fine, occasionally opening his eyes enough to let them roll back before squeezing them shut again, moaning at intervals as Qrow brought him to the edge.

His hands slid in fits and starts down the bed, one hand settling on Qrow’s on his thigh and pulling gently. “I’m close, could you…”

Qrow took that hand and slid up along Clover’s thigh to his cock. “Here?”

 _“Yes._ Finch, please—”

Qrow took Clover’s cock in hand and worked him in time with his fingers, matching Clover’s pace when he started to move his hips in frustrated thrusts that didn’t seem to quite be doing it for him. Qrow decided to help more. “Bet you’re even prettier when you come. Bet you’ll _sound_ even better, huh Cloves? If you like how it feels now just think how it’ll feel later, coming on my dick—”

Clover shouted as he came, pressing his shoulders back into the bed and twisting his hands in the sheets, shaking with aftershocks and looking delightfully wrecked. The little tuft of hair styled up at his hairline had come apart completely and was now flopped over his forehead. Qrow sat back and just watched Clover breathe for a moment.

“Gods, Finch, you’re…really good at this,” Clover said to the ceiling.

Qrow smirked. “So I’ve heard. Let’s get you a towel, hm?”

“Mmmhm. Thanks.”

Qrow went to a small sink in the corner and got a wet towel to wipe Clover down with before throwing it in a bin to be washed. Clover didn’t move the entire time. His eyes were closed and his breathing had levelled out. Qrow tried not to be disappointed. Clover wasn’t the first client to fall asleep on him, but he had been looking forward to Clover’s second request.

“Not sleeping.” Clover cracked an eye open to look up at Qrow like he had heard what Qrow was thinking. “Just…recovering. Give me a minute.”

Qrow shrugged. “You’re allowed. You’ve had massages before, right?”

“None that good.” A slow smile crept up Clover’s features.

“Ha. I meant the non-sexual ones. People fall asleep on the table sometimes, same thing here. It’s fine. You’ve got the room, it’s yours to use how you want until time’s up. Figure I’d wake you up in ten minutes or so.”

“No.” Clover shook his head and some of the sleepiness seemed to shake off, too. “You’re hard _now,_ and I—come here?”

Qrow moved to sit between Clover’s legs again, palming a condom on his way over just in case, and Clover’s hands pulled him down for a kiss. Clover was much more relaxed now, kissing languidly into Qrow’s mouth, hands trailing over his shoulders and under the short jacket to push gently. Qrow obliged and slid the jacket off onto the floor. Clover hummed happily as he ran his hands over Qrow’s bare skin, reaching lower until he skimmed the top of Qrow’s pants and fumbled with the button.

“Felt this earlier,” Clover mumbled into the kiss as he pulled Qrow’s cock out and squeezed. “Think you said something about me screaming, Finch, you want to make good on that?”

Qrow did. He really, really did.

He rolled the condom on and regarded Clover with a lazy sort of interest. “How do you want it, Cloves? Like this? On your knees? On top?”

Clover shuddered, hopefully thinking through his options. “Uh. Here’s good.”

Hm. Clover wasn’t hard again yet, not quite, so Qrow ran his hands up Clover’s thighs, over his ribs and chest and shoulders. “You sure? We have the time if you want to wait—”

“Finch. This is not a line. I wanted you to fuck me from the moment I walked in that door. Trust me, I’ll get there. Come _on,”_ Clover whined, and that might have been the best sound yet.

It was immediately outdone by the noises Clover made as Qrow pushed into him, long shuddering moans that went straight to Qrow’s cock, but Clover had issued a challenge, so he bit down on the inside of his lip and kept moving slowly, until his hips were flush with the backs of Clover’s thighs. He took a breath there, keeping his own desire under control, right up until Clover wrapped his legs around Qrow’s back and pulled him down.

 _“Fuck me,”_ Clover hissed.

Well. Since he asked nicely.

Qrow moved with a rhythm he knew he could keep for a while, one that had Clover’s moans soaking into the soundproofing with every thrust. It had been worth it to work Clover up this long. Now that he was getting used to being able to let go, Clover was _loud,_ beautifully so. Qrow pushed at his thighs experimentally, and when they gave a little, Qrow stopped for a moment to put Clover’s legs up over his shoulders and then snapped his hips forward.

Clover shouted until his voice cracked, which Qrow was absolutely going to count as a scream. He smirked down at Clover. “There we go. Let it out, Cloves.”

Clover’s noises went higher and higher as Qrow settled into the new position, leaning forward as far as it seemed like Clover was comfortable with. He was hard again, had been for a while, and it would be the work of a few seconds to get him off again, but that wasn’t what he’d asked for. Not yet, at least.

And Qrow really, really wanted to hear him come like this.

So he held back his own orgasm and focused solely on chasing Clover’s. He felt Clover try to bend himself further so he pushed, until his body curled over Clover’s, until he could feel the heat of Clover’s breath as he cried out again and again. His eyes were scrunched shut, but as Qrow leaned over they opened again, a truly stunning shade of green even in the room’s dim light. And then they were gone, and Clover was turning his head into the pillows again.

“Finch, _ah—”_

Qrow hummed. “Tell me what you need, Cloves.”

“I’m—when I come, k-keep going. Just a little. Want to—” whatever Clover wanted was lost in another moan as Clover lost his train of thought.

Qrow slowed down, just a touch, because he had to hear this. For professional reasons. “Want to what, Cloves?”

“Want to—ah—want to feel you come, Finch, just, fucking _move—”_

“My pleasure,” Qrow whispered against Clover’s ear, and took him over the edge again.

Clover didn’t scream, in the end, but the near-whistle of air rushing from his lungs as he came, hands digging into Qrow’s back, was music to Qrow’s ears. It was easy to give Clover a few more thrusts before he came with his forehead pressed into Clover’s shoulder.

As soon as he could, he eased back to take the pressure off Clover’s legs and pinched at the base of the condom as he pulled out. Clover made one last perfectly fucked-out noise while he did it.

Qrow cleaned up for the second time that night, lingering a little longer on Clover than he really needed to. If he weren’t on the clock, he’d try to get Clover’s number. He almost regretted picking this cover job, but knowing his luck there’s no way he’d have met Clover otherwise. He sighed. It had been fun while it lasted.

“I’ve been told it’s strange to thank someone after sex, but I think this deserves an exception,” Clover said breathlessly next to him. “I haven’t been fucked like that in a long while. Maybe ever, actually.”

Qrow laughed. “Well if you feel like going again, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah.” Clover smiled sleepily, then stretched like a cat before hopping off the bed and back into his clothes. “Thanks, Finch. I needed that.”

“Anytime.”

The next day, Qrow got a call from Ozpin. He was packed up and headed back to Vale before sunset, leaving the memory of Mantle behind him.

* * *

_If we see each other in the world, we don’t know each other._ Right. Time to be polite, casual, and normal, while apologizing to the sex worker he’d previously hired and had now mistakenly arrested, in front of said sex worker’s _eight kids._ All of whom apparently, Finch included, knew James Ironwood.

This was…not how Clover had expected a potential second meeting to go. Frankly, he was starting to wonder how the situation could possibly get worse.

“And this is my uncle, Qrow.”

Wait. “Qrow _Branwen?”_ Clover blurted, as the situation suddenly got much, much worse.

Qrow Branwen, legendary huntsman and James’ closest confidant, looked up in surprise and then scowled. “You expecting someone else?”

It took a lifetime of self-discipline for Clover to show absolutely no reaction to that voice. He tried to scrape his composure up off the floor and cleared his throat. “Your reputation precedes you, is all. We’re happy to have someone like you in Atlas.”

Qrow mumbled something in response that Clover didn’t quite hear, as he tried to find the fastest way possible to exit this conversation. Finch—Qrow—was either an excellent liar or didn’t seem to remember him, and Clover hadn’t decided which possibility he preferred. 

Gods, they were going to have to _work_ together.

Worse yet, they were _partners._ So Clover was getting to spend plenty of time alone, with Qrow, walking down an abandoned mine shaft in complete silence. Great.

“Look, Cloves—”

_Oh fuck oh shit he remembers—_

Qrow sighed. “I don’t know what I did to you, so I get that I probably deserve it, but I’d rather hear it out than just have you walk on eggshells like this.”

Clover stopped walking. “You…really don’t remember, huh?”

Qrow winced. “That bad? We get in a bar fight? Puked on your boots, what?”

Lie. Lie for your life. No amount of truth is going to make this better. _Lie._ “I, uh, hired you in Mantle a few years back.” Stupid conscience.

Qrow arched an eyebrow. “All this for a failed huntsman mission?”

Clover was sleeveless, underground, in the middle of Solitas, and it was suddenly far, far too warm. A horrible little laugh escaped his chest. “You definitely didn’t fa—I mean. It wasn’t a huntsman mission,” Clover said hoarsely.

“What else could you have hired me—”

Clover had started walking again and was staring dead ahead, so he didn’t see whatever series of expressions Qrow made as he realized what _else_ it had been, but he figured they weren’t good.

“Oh. Huh.”

Clover sighed. It actually helped a lot, just knowing that it was as awkward for Qrow as it was for him. “At least you remember now. And it’s not like you did anything I didn’t want. I just didn’t...didn’t think I’d see you again.” He’d gone back after that night. Asked for him by name. But Finch had been long gone by then. “It’s fine. We should keep going.”

The next few minutes settled into an almost comfortable silence. Then Qrow cleared his throat.

“So. You seeing anyone?”

**Author's Note:**

> And then they go on a long slow burn fling-to-friends-to-lovers arc and everything is fine forever
> 
> Please appreciate [ShadowCrusade's incredible shitpost](https://shadowdarkleonidascrusade.tumblr.com/post/639666954370760705/fairgame-au-where-qrow-and-clover-hooked-at-some) which helped me finish this fic and was the source of the "but what if Qrow straight up forgets and Clover is screaming internally" wrap-up idea, a literal inspiration <3
> 
> \- I don’t know how brothels work in places where they are regulated, I apologize, this is very much a trope fill. I tried to fill in what felt reasonable.  
> \- I don't think I'd consider myself someone who writes a lot of E-rated fic but this one just sort of happened? If I've tagged anything wrong/not enough please let me know


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